


run away to the water

by favspacetwink



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, First Time, Keith has mermaid genitals, M/M, Meet-Cute, Penis In Vagina Sex, Shiro fucks the fishtail, Virgin Keith (Voltron), human shiro, merman Keith, sort of.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-10-28 19:04:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17793005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/favspacetwink/pseuds/favspacetwink
Summary: “What’s your name?”“Keith. What’s yours?”Keith. The name is so normal-sounding that Shiro almost laughs again. “Shiro. Keith, are you… you’re not human, are you?”Keith smiles, mouth full of sharp teeth. “Nope. Am I the first merperson you’ve met?”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Sheithlentines! I'm posting my gift for twitter user zombiezeemo in two installments. This was the prompt that I chose:
> 
> "Mermaid AU in which Keith is the freaky fish-man Shiro wants to put his dick in badly? NICE!!! (no srsly tho where are my merman keith fics in which shiro fucks the fish? No pussyfooting around it by giving him legs via magic - fuck the fishtail or bust lol)"
> 
> Thank you for all of the iconique prompts! She also wanted a larger age gap - I went with 35/18.

It all starts when Shiro’s watch stops.

His phone’s been dead for about an hour, time slipping by as his pencil works furiously in the margins of his already-overflowing sketchbook, and by the time the sun starts to set and he finally remembers to check his wrist, his Rolex tells him that it’s still noon.

“Shit,” Shiro mutters under his breath.

He loves his watch – it’s big, flashy, and most importantly symbolic, representing a substantial chunk of the paycheck he landed from designing his first big-ticket building – but this is the third time it’s stopped in the past year. Luckily, last time all he needed to do was open it up and blow some dust off the gears to get it working again.

From the colors the sun is throwing over the Pacific, it must be around seven or eight. Shiro takes the watch off his wrist and turns it over in his hand absentmindedly as he contemplates staying another half-hour or hiking back to his car now. On one hand, this gorgeous, isolated spot he’s found really has his creative energy flowing right now, exactly what this trip to the coast was meant to accomplish; on the other hand, he doesn’t have any more room to draw, and he has six days left to come back to this exact same spot with a charged phone and a fresh sketchbook.

Shiro’s decision is made for him when he fumbles and drops his watch. He gasps helplessly as it bounces down the steep, jagged rocks and into the ocean.

Well, not quite into the ocean – it lands face up on a rock just below the surface, shimmering underneath the water as it mocks Shiro for taking it off his wrist. Shiro curses and scrambles down the rocks, almost slipping a couple times as he makes his way closer.

The setting sun is glinting off his watch and the water it’s submerged in, making it seem like the Rolex is flickering in and out of existence. Luckily, it means it’s easy for Shiro to keep track of while he occasionally glances down to make sure he has stable footing.

He makes it to the ocean and crouches on the closest dry rock, shivering as the wind whips at his thin jacket. He reaches out for the watch-

-and gasps when something else in the sea does the same.

Shiro snatches his hand back like he’s been burned, scrambling as far back on the small rock as he can. He might make a sound, close to a squeak, as his mouth opens and closes in shock.

The water is dark, a little choppy as it breaks over the rocks, so at first all Shiro can see is a  _ hand,  _ with skin a color close to his own, a little smaller than his, with webbing in between the digits. He gapes stupidly for a few seconds, then feels even dumber when the hand closes around his Rolex and starts to drag it into the sea.

Shiro doesn’t know what he’s thinking when he reaches out to grab the hand taking his watch away – he  _ isn’t  _ thinking, really, just operating on an instinct born of wanting to keep things that he’s spent a lot of money on – but he immediately regrets it when a red tail splashes out of the water and smacks the surface, sending a wave up that completely drenches Shiro from head to toe.

He sits down hard on the rock, rubbing cold saltwater out of his eyes as an icy chill settles over him and into his skin. When Shiro manages to open his eyes despite the sting, he’s so shocked he can’t make a sound, because there’s a  _ boy  _ in the water staring at him.

After Shiro’s initial shock wears off, he realizes that the boy looks as stunned as he does, huge purple eyes wide.

“I’m sorry,” is the first thing the boy says.

“Wh-what?” Shiro stammers, teeth chattering from the cold.

The boy nods, perhaps indicating Shiro’s overall state. “For splashing you.”

“That was  _ you? _ ”

“Um, yeah.” The boy looks at him like he’s stupid. Shiro certainly feels stupid, like time is sprinting forward and his mind is lagging behind. It only gets worse when the dark tail – the same one that dumped a bucketful of ocean on Shiro’s body – rises from the water and it becomes apparent that it’s  _ attached to the boy. _

“What the fuck,” Shiro breathes.

The boy scowls at him. “Look, I said I’m sorry. You don’t have to be rude.”

“I – I-” Shiro stammers. “Sorry, I just – I’ve never seen anyone… um… like you before.” His mouth is making words without his brain’s consent. “Like... with a… tail.”

“Oh,” the boy says. He looks at the tip of his tail - fanned out like a fish’s, covered in deep red scales - and his face falls.

“It’s a great tail,” Shiro says quickly, his mouth still operating independently. “It’s beautiful. It just… surprised me.”

A smile steals back onto the boy’s face. “Oh. Okay. Well, you surprised me too.”

“How?”

“You grabbed me out of nowhere! That’s why I splashed you!”

Shiro laughs. “Yeah, because you were  _ stealing  _ my  _ watch.” _ The boy has the decency to blush, which is when Shiro realizes he’s having banter with a fish-person. “What’s your name?”

“Keith. What’s yours?”

_ Keith.  _ The name is so normal-sounding that Shiro almost laughs again. “Shiro. Keith, are you… you’re not human, are you?”

Keith smiles, mouth full of sharp teeth. “Nope. Am I the first merperson you’ve met?”

“The first…” Shiro repeats dazedly. “Uh, yeah. You’re the first.”

“Sweet,” Keith says. “You’re the first human I’ve met, too. Well, the first one I’ve actually talked to, at least.”

Shiro blinks. “You knew humans existed before this?”

“Of course.”

“Oh. That’s why you’re handling this better than I am,” Shiro says.

Keith crosses his arms over the submerged rock and pillows his chin on them, staring up at Shiro curiously. “What do you mean?”

“Well, there’s a real possibility I’m hallucinating due to hypothermia or shock or both, because up until today I thought mermaids were a myth.”

Keith narrows his eyes. “I’m not a mermaid.”

“Merperson, sorry.”

“That’s better,” Keith nods.

Shiro stares at him. Now that Shiro knows his name, it’s a little easier to admit that he’s  _ strikingly _ pretty. His face is all sharp angles softened by full lips and stunning indigo eyes rimmed with long, dark lashes. He has black hair that falls in soft waves down to his shoulders, choppy pieces framing his face, and it’s only during this assessment that Shiro realizes with confusion that Keith’s hair isn’t wet – water is dripping off of it, but in beads, like it would off of an umbrella or raincoat.

“Your hair,” Shiro says hesitantly. “It’s… dry?”

Keith takes one arm off the rock to pat at his hair, and Shiro notices that the water is beading on his skin the same way. “Oh, yeah. It repels water, so I guess it looks dry when I’m out of the ocean.”

“But you  _ live  _ in water.”

Keith snorts. “Yeah, and my upper half is pretty similar to a human’s. You ever see a dead body that’s spent a couple of days underwater?” Shiro winces. “Yeah. I’d be all bloated and gross if I wasn’t waterproof.”

“That… makes a lot of sense,” Shiro says.

“Mhmm,” Keith nods. “You can touch it, if you want. My hair.”

It’s only as Shiro’s reaching out, figuring he’s never going to get an opportunity like this again, that he remembers reading myths about mermaids luring sailors close to them so they could drag them underwater and drown them. Or maybe those were sirens, not mermaids. Either way, it’s too late to pull his hand back if this  _ is  _ all an elaborate trap, and he gasps quietly when his fingers find Keith’s hair and discover how  _ soft  _ it is.

“Oh, wow,” he breathes.

Instead of dragging Shiro into the ocean to kill him, Keith leans into Shiro’s touch and his eyes flutter closed. Something about the sight makes Shiro’s chest hurt.

It’s also kind of… hot. Which really shows how badly Shiro needs to get laid – even meeting a  _ mythical fucking creature _ isn’t enough to quiet his lizard brain after the two-year dry spell he’s had.

He draws his hand back quickly after that, biting his lip when Keith tries to follow his hand, eyes fluttering open when he realizes that Shiro’s stopped.

“It’s really soft,” Shiro offers quickly. “I like it. It looks really good.”

_ Why is his mouth still moving? _

Keith grins, like he senses Shiro’s internal conflict. “Thanks. So, Shiro, what brings you to my little corner of the ocean? Since you’re the first human I’ve ever met, I’m assuming not many live around here.”

“You’re right,” Shiro says. “This part of the coast is protected forest, so no one lives here. That’s actually why I came here – I wanted to be around nature instead of people so I could get some inspiration.”

“Inspiration for what?”

“For a building I’m supposed to be designing,” Shiro explains. “For my job. I’m an architect.”

“People hire you to design buildings?” Keith asks; Shiro nods. “Why don’t they just design their own?”

Shiro laughs. “I like to think that I’m better at it than most people.”

“You must be,” Keith says, tilting his head and smiling at him.

Shiro remembers his sketchbook, still sitting at the top of the small cliff he’d climbed down, and wonders if Keith would like to see it. He’s figuring out a good way to ask when a violent shiver tears through him and he also remembers that he’s soaking wet and freezing.

Keith frowns, looking chagrined. “I’m so sorry, again.”

“Kinda wish  _ I  _ was w-waterproof right about n-now,” Shiro says, teeth chattering.

“You should build a fire to get warm,” Keith suggests.

Shiro laughs even as he shivers. “I think I’m just going to go back to my hotel-”

“No, you can’t leave yet!” Keith hauls himself half-out of the water so quickly that Shiro feels his heart physically knock against his ribs. His gaze drops to Keith’s bare chest for a split second, to the water dripping off his pert nipples; it takes everything Shiro has to move his eyes back to Keith’s face. “I barely know anything about you. Who  _ knows  _ when I’ll meet another human being?”

“I…” Now Shiro is almost  _ certain  _ he’s hallucinating. “I hear what you’re saying, but it’s getting dark out and I’m freezing. I’ll have to leave eventually.”

Keith still looks crushed _. _

Seeing someone so beautiful look so sad because of something Shiro said makes Shiro want to fix it, regardless of the fact that it’s Keith’s fault he needs to leave to avoid dying of hypothermia. Which is probably why he takes a deep breath and offers, “I can… um… I can come back tomorrow, though? If you want?”

It’s only when Keith  _ beams _ and an inexplicable sense of relief washes over Shiro that he realizes how absolutely fucked he is.

xx

Keith keeps the watch.

“Not forever,” he promises Shiro, pushing back from the rock and gliding to deeper water. “Just so I know you’ll come back.”

Then he  _ winks  _ at Shiro and flips backward, disappearing underneath the water in a smooth roll of his body and a splash of his tail at the end. Although it’s now almost completely dark out, Shiro’s still able to see the mesmerizing colors of Keith’s scales, a soft purple where his tail begins around his waist that shift along a gradient to the deep ruby at the very end, where the tail flares into two fins.

Shiro’s left staring dumbfounded at the spot where Keith dived under. He sits absolutely still for a few minutes before the shivering becomes too painful and he finally climbs back up the rocks before there’s no light left at all.

His thoughts are so loud for the rest of the night that it’s difficult to pick a single thread and follow it for more than a few seconds. During the hike back to his car, the drive back to his hotel, the shower he takes before his late dinner, Shiro can’t stop thinking about Keith – he has  _ so many questions. _

They’re still bouncing around in his brain the next morning after preventing him from getting a good night’s sleep. How does Keith speak English? How old is he? How does he know so much about human culture – like what a building is – without having met any humans before? Now that he  _ has  _ met one, is he going to tell anyone about Shiro?

Shiro feels like he can’t drive back to the forest fast enough. How many more like Keith _are_ there, anyway? And since Keith dropped that little tidbit about being waterproof, Shiro has a lot more questions about how his body… well, _works._ Is he cold-blooded? How does he breathe under _and_ above water? And, of course, he has questions he’s absolutely _not_ going to ask about what’s between Keith’s legs, or what would be, if he _had_ legs.

He has a brief moment of panic hiking back to the coast; his phone had died yesterday so he wasn’t able to drop a pin in the exact spot he’d met Keith. However, the trees part in a way that’s familiar, and there’s a distinct clearing at the edge of the cliff that Shiro recognizes, so he takes a deep breath and unpacks his stuff, settling onto the ground for a few minutes to calm himself down.

He’s brought his cell phone – fully charged – in a plastic bag so it won’t get wet, and one of his old sketchbooks to show Keith what he does for a living. Both of those, along with some snacks for the day and two bottles of water, go into a little drawstring bag that Shiro wears on his back as he climbs down the rocks toward the ocean. It’s calmer today than yesterday, the water sloshing gently against the smooth boulders it’s worn down over years and years.

The sun only rose about two hours ago, and although Shiro didn’t exactly plan a meeting time with Keith today, he wonders if Keith is as anxious to see him as he is to see Keith. He doesn’t have to wait long to find out.

“You came back!” is the first thing out of Keith’s mouth when he pops out of the water, absolutely lit up with joy.

Oh, god. He’s even prettier in the full light of day. Shiro had spent the night hoping he’d maybe exaggerated Keith’s beauty in his mind, warped it with his memory, but no.

“I – yeah,” he says stupidly, then gives Keith a smile. “I said I would, didn’t I?”

“Uh-huh,” Keith agrees. His mouth quirks and his eyes turn a little sad, unless Shiro’s imagining things. “And then you actually  _ did _ . What’s on your back?”

“I brought some stuff to show you.”

Shiro’s original plan was to show his art and designs, but that gets derailed for about an hour when his phone lights up with an email alert and Keith’s eyes go wide. Luckily, the touchscreen works through the plastic bag, so he’s able to let Keith play around with the phone while Shiro explains how it works, or at least as much as he knows about how it works. Keith hangs off his every word, his mouth slightly open in awe as he fiddles with the foreign technology, and Shiro tries very, very hard not to stare at his lips.

Eventually they exhaust Shiro’s knowledge of electronics and Keith seems temporarily ready to put the phone aside and learn about Shiro’s job instead.

“So do you build everything yourself, too?” Keith asks him, tail swishing back and forth in interest as Shiro flips slowly through his sketchbook, showing him each page. “Wow.”

Shiro laughs. “No, no. There are separate people who figure out how to actually turn what I design into a building that’ll, like, stand up, and then  _ other  _ people who actually build it.”

“I don’t understand what  _ your  _ job is, then,” Keith tells him, which just makes Shiro laugh harder.

“Most days I wake up just, like, astonished that people pay for my designs,” Shiro admits. “I’m lucky. A lot of people aren’t able to make a living off of something they love doing, and this kind of art has always been my favorite.”

Keith rests his chin on his hands. “I can tell you love it.”

“Yeah?”

“You look so happy talking about it,” Keith says.

Shiro blushes.

Keith’s brows furrow. “Are you okay?”

“What do you mean?” Shiro asks.

“Your face is turning red.”

Shiro chuckles. “Oh, that’s a normal human response to, uh, compliments. Or praise, or embarrassment, a lot of different things. Mermaids don’t blush?”

“Is that what it’s called?” Keith asks. Shiro nods. “I don’t think so. But it would probably be hard to tell in the water, wouldn’t it?”

“Probably,” Shiro agrees, heart suddenly racing. “Here, let me try.”

Keith’s tail flicks back and forth. “How would you-”

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” Shiro says.

Keith’s mouth falls open slightly and he blinks a few times before averting his gaze shyly, tail moving furiously underneath the water. Then, as Shiro watches with delight, a dusting of pink creeps across his cheeks like it’s being painted on with a brush.

“You  _ can  _ blush!”

Holy shit. Keith is  _ so  _ cute. Shiro grabs his phone and snaps a picture; having only discovered photographs about thirty minutes ago, Keith is enraptured when Shiro shows him the picture. His hands keep straying to his cheeks like he can feel the heat underneath his skin, or like he wants to.

“You’ve probably done it before, you just didn’t know,” Shiro tells him.

Keith bites his lip. “Maybe… but no one’s ever called me beautiful before, so I’m, uh, not sure.”

“What? Why not?” Shiro is offended on Keith’s behalf.

“What kind of a question is that?” Keith shoots back, his blush deepening.

“An incredibly valid one,” Shiro says. “You’re gorgeous. And I’m  _ not  _ just saying that to make your face turn red, I promise, but you should know that you’re the same color as a tomato right now. Or, like, a lobster. If you haven’t seen a tomato.”

He takes another picture of Keith just to prove his point.

Keith runs a nervous hand through his hair a few times as Shiro turns the phone around; when he sees the picture, his eyebrows fly up. “Whoa.”

“Yeah,” Shiro grins, then sighs. “I should probably delete these, even though I don’t want to.”

“What? Why?” Panic spreads over Keith’s face.

“Humans don’t exactly know about you guys. I’m guessing you want to keep it that way,” Shiro tells him. “What? It’s just a picture.”

Keith’s eyes are huge. “W-will it hurt?”

Holy. Shit.

Keith is  _ so cute _ .

It takes some convincing – Shiro leads by example, takes a selfie and then deletes it just to prove that it leaves him in one piece – but eventually Keith lets Shiro delete the pictures.

“I still don’t get how anyone would find them if it’s  _ your  _ phone,” Keith says.

Shiro shrugs. “I don’t really know how it works, but people can definitely hack into other people’s phones. It happens all the time. I wouldn’t want anyone doing that to me and finding out about you… well, about merpeople. I’m assuming you’re not the only one.”

“No, I’m not,” Keith says.

“How many of you are there?”

Keith frowns. “I’m… not sure. Merfolk are pretty solitary, and  _ I’m  _ pretty solitary for a merperson, so I honestly have no clue.”

“Huh.” Shiro stretches out on his side, using his backpack as a pillow. Keith gets comfortable too, wiggling until he’s hugging a nearby rock and can easily stare up at Shiro as they talk. Shiro wonders if there’s a softer place for them to meet. “So you live on your own, then?”

“Yeah. I have for years.”

“Is that common?” Shiro asks. “Sorry, I’m not trying to be nosy, I’m just curious. I live by myself too, you know.”

Keith snorts. “It’s okay, I’ve been asking you questions all day. I, uh… it’s not super common for merfolk my age to live alone. Most eighteen-year-olds already have mates.”

Shiro can actually pinpoint the moment his brain short-circuits. Eighteen?  _ Eighteen?  _ Granted, he’s not sure what a mermaid’s lifespan is, but holy  _ shit,  _ the stirrings of feelings he’s already started to catch now seem a lot creepier. At thirty-five, it’s been a while since Shiro has felt this way about a  _ human  _ eighteen-year-old, so it’s not like he has a super bad track record, but – still.

Luckily, Keith is oblivious to Shiro’s internal monologue, because he continues, “But I’m pretty sure mating isn’t in the cards for me. No one else will get close enough to talk to me, much less – anything else.”

“Wait, what? Why not?”

“Merfolk are very superstitious, and they think this-” Keith holds the tip of his tail out of the water- “is bad luck.”

Shiro is so confused. “Your tail?”

“The red tip,” Keith explains. “Most people’s tails are just one color, or it starts out with a color by the waist but fades to black. The way mine fades to red is supposedly ‘flirting with death,’ or some bullshit. They think I’m cursed.”

Shiro snorts.

“My mom had the exact same tail, though, and she was able to find a mate and have a kid,” Keith says. “You know, normal life stuff! But all the evidence in the world wouldn’t convince these people that they’re delusional.”

“I guess your dad didn’t agree with all that,” Shiro says.

Keith laughs. “No, he thought it was bullshit too.”

Shiro can’t help but notice Keith is using the past tense when talking about both of his parents, but he isn’t sure whether or not to bring it up and, if so,  _ how.  _ Instead, he goes with a safe, “Do you have any siblings?”

“Nah,” Keith shakes his head. “My mom… she left, a few months after she had me. First and only child.”

“Mmm,” Shiro hums. “Do you… do you ever get to see her, at all?”

Keith shakes his head again. “I’ve never met her, actually. Just heard stuff about her from my dad. He always said she had a good reason for leaving, that she might come back someday, but most of our little colony thought she disappeared because the curse got her.”

“Oh,” Shiro breathes. “Oh, no – Keith, I’m so sorry.”

Keith shrugs, his eyes resolutely fixed on the smooth surface of the rock he’s braced on. “Like I said, I was a few months old. I don’t remember it at all.”

“That must have been tough for your dad,” Shiro says.

“Yeah, it was. He burned a lot of bridges when he picked her as a mate and they had me, you know? And then she left – or, depending on who you ask, she got killed, just like the rest of the colony warned my dad would happen – and then it was just him and a baby who looked exactly like his missing mate. It was a struggle for him to convince the colony to even, like, let him raise me there.”

“Oh, wow. That’s awful.”

Keith snorts. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure they would’ve just as soon launched baby Keith out into the open ocean to fend for himself, but they liked my dad enough to let me stay, I guess.”

“He sounds like a great guy,” Shiro says. 

“Yeah, he was,” Keith agrees, his eyes sad. He looks up at Shiro for the first time since he started talking about his parents. 

“Oh, Keith,” Shiro says softly. 

“He died when I was twelve,” Keith says, confirming what Shiro had suspected. “Shark attack.”

“I’m so sorry.”

Keith averts his eyes again and brushes some hair out of his face. “It’s… thanks.”

Shiro reaches out and puts his hand over Keith’s, still braced on the rock. 

“After that, nothing was stopping the colony from kicking me out anymore,” Keith says. “I’ve been on my own ever since.”

Shiro tightens his hand on Keith’s in outrage, stroking over his knuckles protectively. “Nothing was - Keith, you were  _ twelve.” _

Keith shrugs but doesn’t move his hand away from Shiro’s. “I guess they figured that was old enough to fend for myself.”

“That’s awful,” Shiro says. “I mean, you  _ survived,  _ clearly, but they had no way of knowing if you would. And what have you been doing for company? Six years is such a long time to spend alone.”

“I can communicate with mammals and some of the bigger fish,” Keith says. “Not sure how it works, but I can. So it’s not like I spent six years not talking to  _ anyone _ . But, I mean… you’re right.”

Shiro looks at him. “When was the last time someone gave you a hug?”

“What?”

“I’m serious!” Shiro refuses to feel creepy about this. “Unless that’s not a thing for merpeople.”

“No, it is,” Keith admits. He looks at Shiro’s hand, still covering his own. “I guess it was my dad, right? Unless you count sea lions. They’re great cuddlers.”

Shiro’s heart is slowly cracking into pieces. 

Keith looks up at him. “Why, are you offering?”

“Absolutely,” Shiro says. He squeezes Keith’s hand. “Six years is a long time. I know I just met you yesterday, but I care about you, and-”

He’s cut off when Keith pushes his upper body out of the water and wraps both arms around him, nearly sending Shiro toppling into the ocean. Luckily Shiro’s able to brace himself with one hand, then maneuver his legs so he’s not slouched on his side but rather sitting on his heels, all with one arm clutching Keith close. 

Once Shiro’s settled, the reality that he’s hugging a merman hits him hard. He wore a raincoat today just in case there was another mishap like yesterday’s, but Keith’s skin is barely damp; it’s surprisingly soft, like a human’s, but if that human religiously applied lotion ten times a day. Shiro gets his other arm involved once it becomes apparent that Keith’s not letting go any time soon, because Keith is surprisingly heavy, too, probably from all the muscle in his lower half. He can feel the way Keith’s chest is expanding and contracting against him - Keith is breathing hard, clutching on tight, not breaking his hold even when he has to shift one of his arms so he can tuck his face into Shiro’s neck.

Shiro smiles out at the water. It’s such a nice hug.

Although Shiro works out almost every day, his back and arms quickly reach the point where he’d be more comfortable readjusting his hold or letting go so Keith can lower himself back into the water. He’s about to suggest that when he feels wetness against his neck and realizes that Keith is - Keith is  _ crying,  _ silent, his body shaking so minutely that Shiro had missed it entirely until now.

“Hey, hey,” Shiro says immediately. He rubs his cheek against Keith’s hair. “Keith, hey, it’s okay.”

A sob slips from Keith’s mouth and Shiro’s heart finally cracks in two. He makes a split-second decision and lifts Keith out of the water entirely, sitting back hard on his tailbone before helping Keith drape his tail over Shiro’s lap. Once Keith is settled and Shiro can use his hands for something other than holding him up, he rubs soothing circles between Keith’s shoulder blades with one hand and pets through his soft hair with the other.

All the while Keith continues to sob, clinging to him tightly.

Shiro hadn’t expected anything like this to happen, but in retrospect it kind of makes sense. Keith hasn’t had any human - er, merperson contact for years, probably never got to properly grieve his dad before being kicked out of the colony he grew up in. It makes sense that he’d get attached to the first person to come along and be halfway decent to him, and it makes even more sense that physical affection would be emotionally overwhelming.

Shiro sighs, worry threading through him over how attached he  _ himself _ is getting. He watches the waves roll in, break against the rocks just beneath them.

He strokes through Keith’s hair. “I’ve got you, Keith. You’re okay.”

Keith calms down gradually; eventually, he starts to sniffle and rub at his eyes. He hooks his chin over Shiro’s shoulder and stubbornly refuses Shiro’s efforts to coax him into eye contact.

“Feeling a little better?” Shiro asks tentatively.

“Yeah,” Keith says, voice rough. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Shiro says. 

“It’s stupid,” Keith mutters.

Shiro shakes his head. “It’s not stupid - you’ve been through a lot.”

Keith finally leans back a little bit, but only to wipe furiously at his eyes again and glare at the rocks behind Shiro’s head. It’s such a cute, angry pout that it makes Shiro smile, though he quickly hides it.

“Want to talk about it?” Shiro asks.

Keith shakes his head.

“Well, consider this a standing offer for the rest of the week, if you ever want to,” Shiro says. “Hugs, too.”

Keith sighs, then finally looks over at Shiro. His eyes are even prettier this close, flecks of slate and sapphire swirling in purple depths. “Maybe if I hug you enough times I’ll stop wanting to cry every time I do it.”

Shiro huffs a little laugh. “Maybe.”

They look at each other for a few more moments, until Shiro starts to become uncomfortably aware of his heart beating behind his ribs and looks away, out at the ocean. Keith settles more comfortably in his lap, tail flicking against the wet rock, and Shiro realizes that this is the first opportunity he has to see Keith’s scales up close.

“I don’t see how anyone could think your tail is bad luck,” he says, drinking in the pearlescent, almost shimmering beauty of Keith’s lower half. “It’s so pretty.”

The transition from purple to red is so gradual that each individual scale seems like it’s a different color.

“I guess it looks pretty nice out in the sun,” Keith admits. “I’ve never seen it like this.”

“Like what, out of the water?” Shiro asks. Keith nods, and Shiro has a moment of panic. “Wait a second, are you okay being all the way out of the water like this? I didn’t even think-”

“Shiro, relax,” Keith laughs. “I’m fine.”

Shiro does not relax. “Yeah, but for how long?”

Keith shrugs. “Not sure. Never tried. We can find out today, though!”

“That doesn’t sound safe.”

Keith grins at him. “I’ll just tell you when I start to feel weird, or dry, or whatever, and you can toss me back into the ocean.”

“I’m not going to toss you!” Shiro says indignantly. Keith arches an eyebrow at him. “I’m going to gently lower you.”

They both laugh; Keith’s blushing, faintly, and Shiro is pretty sure he is as well.

The rest of the day passes without Shiro doing a single second of work on his project. They actually don’t end up figuring out how long Keith can stay out of the water, because both of them get hungry before anything about his tail starts to change. Shiro shows Keith the kind of stuff he eats - well, the boring nonperishable stuff that fits into a backpack - and, in response, Keith slips back into the water, disappears for ten minutes, and comes back with several freshly-killed fish. They’re a decent size, too.

“This way we can eat together,” Keith says happily, eyes sparkling. 

He then proceeds to tear into the first fish with gusto, looking up at Shiro expectantly a second later with blood all over his sharp teeth and a piece of fish skin hanging out of his mouth. 

“Oh, uh. Right.” Shiro opens one of his protein bars and raises it like he’s making a toast.

He spends all of lunch trying to convince himself that Keith is essentially eating sushi.

As jarring as Keith’s eating habits are, at the end of the day they don’t do anything to change the fact that Shiro is growing more and more attracted to Keith every second he spends with him. Not just physically, but - emotionally. It doesn’t make any sense; they’ve known each other just shy of two days at this point, but Shiro feels a magnetic pull toward Keith that he can’t explain.

It’s becoming harder to ignore.

They whittle away the afternoon, hours slipping by; Keith gets back out of the water and, though he doesn’t go for another hug, presses close to Shiro’s side as they talk. Shiro gets some of his questions answered, although he still tries not to make it feel like an inquisition.

Eventually, the sun starts to set, and Shiro shows Keith the feature on his phone that lets him “pin” their location and find it more easily in the future. 

“Does it work underwater?” Keith asks.

“No!” Shiro says, probably a little too quickly. “No, water’s really bad for phones. Although… they do make clear pouches you can seal your phone in that’re supposed to be waterproof.”

“Cool,” Keith smiles. “Can you bring one tomorrow?”

He doesn’t even ask  _ if  _ Shiro’s coming back tomorrow. On anyone else it might come off as smug or overconfident, but Keith is just - open, and trusting. The worst part is that this barely even registers on Shiro’s radar, because there is no part of him that wasn’t already planning on spending the entire day here tomorrow.

“I’ll try,” Shiro tells him. “Why, you wanna steal my phone like you stole my watch?”

Keith laughs, his grin impish. “I didn’t - you’ll get your watch back, Shiro. I’m just keeping it safe.”

xx

Shiro drives to the nearest Target that night and buys a hundred-dollar waterproof phone case.

xx

The next day, Shiro promises himself he’s going to get some actual work done on his designs.

It goes well for the first hour or so on the coast, mostly because Keith grabs Shiro’s newly-waterproof phone and disappears into the water with it with the promise to be back in an hour. Shiro has nothing to do  _ but  _ work on his designs.

Well, that and worry about what the pressure underneath the surface of the ocean is going to do to his phone. Working seems like the better option.

The company that commissioned Shiro for this newest project didn’t have many specifications, which is both a blessing and a curse. It shows the trust they have in him as an architect, that Shiro has truly built a positive reputation for himself - but it also places a creative burden on Shiro’s shoulders that he’s not used to carrying. Most people have somewhat of a vision for their building, or a theme, or an inspiration; the instructions Shiro got for this newest building were “something no one’s ever done before.”

Nothing more, nothing less. Suuuuuper helpful. Really gives Shiro an idea of what they’re looking for. 

So, he came to the Pacific Northwest - a part of the country that he’s never been to before - hoping to find inspiration from landscapes and environments that he’s seeing with his own eyes for the first time.

Instead, he found Keith.

Shiro looks down at his book and finds that he’s been doodling Keith’s scales, several little panels of them - the way that they interlock and move fluidly along each other. He watches his hand move like it’s disembodied to sketch Keith’s face, spending time on his eyes and lips, softening lines with his eraser and trying to capture the shape of his hair.

“I did it!”

Shiro startles and almost tears the page out of his book entirely in his haste to turn it. Keith is back, and he’s brandishing Shiro’s phone excitedly.

“H-hey, Keith! Where’d you go?”

“To my cave,” Keith says, a glint in his eye.

Shiro raises an eyebrow.  _ “Your  _ cave?”

“Where I live!”

“Oh,” Shiro breathes. “Oh, that’s - wait, it takes an  _ hour  _ to get there and back from here?”

Keith scowls at him. “If you’re trying to say I swim slow, you-”

_ “No,  _ no no no, I just mean… I didn’t realize you were making that much of a trek every day. I thought you lived around this spot,” Shiro says.

“Nope,” Keith shakes his head. “I like to hunt down here, though. Hunting close to where I live always feels kind of fucked up.”

“That makes a lot of sense,” says Shiro. “I feel bad that I’ve been making you swim all this way every day, though.”

Keith rolls his eyes. “It’s not that far.” He hands Shiro his phone and proceeds to climb out of the ocean, water sluicing off him in slow-motion like Shiro’s brain is trying to film the next Baywatch remake. “Here, I’ll show you.”

He takes Shiro’s phone back once he’s settled on the rock, the side of Shiro’s thigh pressed against his tail, and when Keith carefully unlocks Shiro’s phone with clumsy webbed fingers, Shiro realizes that Keith took his phone all that way so he could drop a pin where he lived. 

Shiro sucks in a sharp breath, hyperaware of his own heartbeat and the way Keith’s skin is touching his.

The last time Shiro had an honest-to-goodness crush, it took three years to grow into a marriage that lasted two increasingly mediocre years and then fizzled into a messy divorce that dragged out another year after that, so it’s been a while since he’s had one, but he’s  _ pretty _ sure this is what a crush feels like.

Fuck.

“Here,” Keith says again, pointing at the screen.

Shiro looks at the map; Keith must be able to swim pretty fast if he’s able to cover that much ground in thirty minutes. Shiro feels inexplicably proud.

“We should find a better meeting spot,” he says.

Keith frowns. “What’s wrong with this one?”

“Well, there’s barely room on this rock for the two of us, and this is the biggest one around here,” Shiro says. “If I sit in this same position for the rest of the week I’ll have to find a chiropractor when I get back to Chicago.”

He’s wincing at himself before he even closes his mouth.

Keith makes a soft noise. “Where  _ is _ Chicago?”

“It’s… in the middle of the country,” Shiro says slowly. He mentioned the city yesterday when he was telling Keith about his job. “It’s pretty far from here.”

“When do you go back?”

Shiro doesn’t want to think about that, suddenly. “Three days from now.”

Keith sighs, then slowly - carefully - lays his head on Shiro’s shoulder. He looks out at the ocean when he asks, “If I find a better meeting spot, will you stay longer?”

“Oh, Keith, I - that’s not why I’m leaving,” Shiro is quick to say.

It takes some time to explain airports and flights to Keith, and a little more time to explain what his normal workweek is like. Luckily that leads the conversation out of the danger zone - for now - and Shiro is able to relax a bit, eventually going so far as slinking his arm around Keith’s shoulders. He shivers when Keith melts into his touch, the sun warming them as they talk quietly. 

“I thought you said you wanted to get work done today,” Keith says some time later. “Not that I’m complaining.”

Shiro sighs and decides to be honest, because fuck it, he’s leaving in three days anyway. “I’d rather spend time with you.”

He feels Keith’s cheek get hot against his shoulder. “I mean, I’d… I’d still be here if you wanted to get out your book and draw a little. I don’t mind.”

“You don’t mind, huh?”

Keith’s face only gets hotter. “I  _ like  _ watching you draw.”

The butterflies in Shiro’s stomach feel like they’re covered in spikes.

“Okay,” he says a second later. “It’s hard to do when someone’s watching, though.”

Keith laughs. “Just pretend I’m not here.”

“That’s even harder to do,” Shiro says, reaching for his sketchbook.

It’s only when he opens up to his most recent page, Keith snuggled into his side and watching him, that Shiro remembers what he actually drew this morning, and it wasn’t designs for his new building.

Keith sucks in a startled breath next to him.

Fuck fuck fuck, Shiro just feels creepy now. In a panic, he tries, “Keith, I-”

“Is that me?” Keith asks. “Wow.”

“Y-yeah. I just, um-”

“I’m not nearly that pretty in real life,” Keith says.

_ Oh.  _ Keith  _ likes  _ it. Shiro huffs. “Keith, I don’t even think I did you justice.”

Keith sits up a little so he can turn to look at Shiro, then glances back at the book, his eyes wide. He’s so, so gorgeous. Shiro can’t breathe. “Is that what I look like? To you?” 

Shiro nods, not trusting himself to speak. He leans in a little, and Keith mirrors him, two orbiting stars.

“Why?”

Shiro almost laughs. “Can I show you?”

Keith nods, looking impossibly young and -  _ curious,  _ fuck, Shiro can’t take it anymore.

He closes the short distance between their mouths and slides his hand up from Keith’s shoulder to his soft hair. Keith makes a startled sound but he doesn’t lean away, pressing his body against Shiro’s like he wants to get closer, and Shiro is rewarded with the tiniest of moans when he parts his lips and sucks Keith’s bottom lip into his mouth.

Shiro keeps the kiss chaste, because he knows it’s Keith’s first. When he pulls back, Keith follows him, just like he followed Shiro’s hand that first day when Shiro stopped petting his hair. His eyes are closed, dark lashes feathered together, and his lips are redder than usual, a little puffy, open like he wanted Shiro to slip him some tongue. 

“Keith,” Shiro says quietly.

Keith blinks his eyes open. “Mm?”

Shiro can’t think of anything else to say, his brain empty save for Keith’s name. So he kisses him again instead, deeper this time; Keith moans and reaches up to clutch at his jacket, and Shiro tries to tuck away his aching heart for the time being and focus on the gorgeous creature in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned for chapter 2: It Took 7k For Them To Kiss But It'll Only Take A Few Hundred Words For Shiro To Get Knuckle-Deep
> 
> And there's a happy ending, I promise! Follow me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/favspacetwink) for updates on when I'm going to post the second chapter and just general sheith horniness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's for you, Zeemo. Happy Sheithlentines to all, and to all a good Sheithlentines.

The cashier at Target raises a single manicured eyebrow as she rings up Shiro’s purchase of a camping tent, a sleeping bag, a travel folding chair, and Astroglide.

Shiro would’ve used self-checkout, but it’s surprisingly busy for close to ten at night. He refuses to feel too embarrassed about this. If anyone else in this store had the potential opportunity to sleep with a mermaid and _wouldn’t_ take it, then _they’re_ the ones who should feel embarrassed.

xx

He drives to the coast the next morning with a different meeting spot in mind, checking his phone several times on the subsequent hike to make sure he’s still headed toward the correct pin.

Yesterday afternoon, Keith had actually been the one to try to take things further. After spending a couple of minutes getting used to the rhythm of kissing as Shiro taught him how to move their tongues together, Keith had bitten down on Shiro’s bottom lip with his sharp little teeth and tried to climb in his lap.

It had taken everything in Shiro’s power not to let him. Keith was so eager, and such a fast learner, but Shiro had been adamant that they should take things slow.

Slow, of course, was relative, given Shiro’s imminent flight back to Chicago, but Shiro’s primary concern had actually been the fact that they were completely out in the open with no shelter and barely enough space for one of them to lay down. Someone passing by on a boat could easily spot them. He told Keith it was a miracle someone hadn’t already, given all the time Keith had spent out of the water the past couple of days.

In response to all of this, Keith - beautiful Keith, who couldn’t stop staring at Shiro’s mouth, his webbed hands cupping Shiro’s face - had simply suggested they find a more secluded spot.

Shiro couldn’t argue with that. Especially when they were actually successful in their efforts to find one, about half a mile north from their usual meeting place.

That’s where he’s headed today; hidden from ocean view behind a rocky outcropping, a patch of rocks almost as fine as sand sits just above the highest point of the tide, providing easy access by both land and sea. Shiro tried climbing down to it yesterday and found it no more treacherous than their previous spot - and more importantly, found that it was large enough for a small tent.

Today, Shiro has to make two trips to carry all of the supplies down to the little cove. He spends the first one lost in his own head, marveling at the fact that this is actually fucking happening. The shopping spree made it feel a little more normal, like this is any other event that requires planning and preparation, but now that Shiro’s _here,_ the very _ab_ normal reality is hitting him hard.

Shiro is about to spend the rest of his time away from Chicago camping on the coast with an eighteen-year-old he’s known for less than a week. He’s spent approximately zero percent of this work trip doing actual work, he has a deadline coming up that he’s not at all prepared for, he’s still paying for two more nights in a hotel that he’s not going to set foot in again until probably an hour before check-out, and - oh, yeah, the guy who has Shiro ignoring all other responsibilities like an obsessive teenager is a fucking _mermaid._

What the fuck is Shiro _doing?_

Luckily, on his second descent, Shiro hears a familiar voice that knocks him back out of his head.

“You brought so much stuff!”

Shiro cranes his head to look down behind him, beaming when he sees Keith stretched out leisurely in the shallows. “I know. I wanted to be, uh, prepared.”

He has to actually look at what he’s doing in order to climb the rest of the way down, but as soon as he’s on solid footing, Shiro’s eyes snap back to Keith. He can’t help it - Keith looks more beautiful than ever, smiling up at Shiro where he rests on his belly, his tail submerged in the water save for the generous curve of his ass. He looks as excited to see Shiro as Shiro is to see him; it makes Shiro’s heart ache with the urge to protect Keith, to _destroy_ anyone who’s ever hurt him.

It also makes other parts of him ache to learn Keith’s body. Shiro kneels down on the sand and tilts Keith’s chin up to give him a kiss, savoring the taste of saltwater and something sweeter.

“Hi,” Keith breathes once they part, pupils dilated.

“Hi,” Shiro echoes him. He brushes his thumb over Keith’s cheek. “I missed you.”

Keith’s skin heats up right underneath his touch. “Missed you too.” His eyes flick over to Shiro’s bags. “What did you bring?”

“Mm, lots of stuff,” Shiro says. He stands back up and walks over to grab the tent, still in its box, and shows it to Keith. “Have you ever seen one of these?”

“No.”

“It’s like a little shelter, but I have to set it up myself,” Shiro explains, opening the box. His hands are shaking a little bit, not from the prospect of setting up a tent but from the knowledge that once the tent is constructed, there won’t be anything holding them back from being truly alone together. “Lucky you, you get to watch me struggle.”

Keith tilts his head. “Why, is it hard?”

Shiro pulls the sheet of instructions out. “Sometimes they’re complicated, but this one comes with instructions. Let’s see.”

He regales Keith with camping stories from when he was younger as he sets up the tent. Keith is particularly interested in campfires - fire in general, actually, since he’s never seen it up close. Before he can stop himself, Shiro briefly wonders if he can somehow manage to build and successfully light one over the next several days.

 _Christ,_ he is fully wrapped around Keith’s little webbed finger.

Keith’s fascinated encouragement makes it easy to power through the last couple steps of the instructions, and before Shiro knows it he’s got a fully functional tent set up with all four corners anchored in the sand.

“And it won’t blow over in the wind?” Keith asks curiously as Shiro gets out the folding chair to take a well-deserved rest.

“Hopefully not, but I guess we’ll see,” Shiro says. He’s about to flop down in the chair, but then he looks at Keith laying there all pretty and gets a better idea. “Wanna come sit?”

Keith grins and the fins on the end of his tail break the surface of the water, flicking back and forth. “Yes.”

The tension is back, thicker than before.

Heart pounding, Shiro pulls the chair closer to the water, then leans down to wrap his arms around Keith, scooping him up from the shallows. He’s heavy, but once Shiro gets a hand below his ass - where his thighs would be, if he had them - he’s able to hold Keith in a bridal carry as he carefully sits himself down on the chair, cradling Keith in his lap.

Shiro doesn’t have anything clever to say about the fact that his pants are now wet and he’ll need to take them off eventually. It’s just a somewhat convenient fact. For now, Keith is staring at his mouth, mind clearly on one thing and one thing only since Shiro introduced him to it yesterday, so Shiro takes pity on him and leans in to capture Keith’s bottom lip between his teeth.

“Mmnh,” Keith sighs, wrapping his arms around Shiro’s neck.

He’s a quick study, parting his lips and sucking on the tongue Shiro pushes between them. Shiro groans and kisses him harder, sliding a hand up to the back of his neck and shivering when Keith nips at him with his sharp little teeth. His mouth is a little cooler than Shiro’s, something Shiro hasn’t really experienced before - like kissing someone who keeps pausing to drink ice water.

Keith whimpers and squirms in his lap as Shiro maps the inside of his mouth with his tongue. Shiro could get addicted to this.

Who is he kidding - he already is.

Keith’s hands are soft as he slides them up into Shiro’s hair, the webbing between his fingers tickling the short hairs at the base of Shiro’s neck. Shiro groans, imagining those hands all over him, picturing what they might look like wrapped around his dick.

He squeezes Keith’s hip, readjusting Keith’s tail so that he’s sitting more securely in Shiro’s lap, before letting his hand wander up to explore Keith’s chest. Keith wiggles as Shiro pets over the soft skin of his pecs, fingers making their way slowly but surely toward one of his nipples, and he jumps a little and moans when Shiro finally brushes a thumb over the peaked bud.

“Oh…” Keith’s breath leaves him with a gasp.

Shiro swallows every noise he makes, greedy, and gently pinches the nipple between his thumb and forefinger as it starts to harden under his touch. He hadn’t dared to hope that Keith’s nipples would be this sensitive; he can feel his cock start to stiffen in his pants.

“Does that feel good?” he murmurs, the din of the ocean almost drowning out his words.

“Mhmm - _nnh,”_ Keith nods, whining when Shiro pinches harder. It’s the hottest thing Shiro’s ever heard. He switches his attention to the other nipple so he can hear that sound again.

Keith’s mouth slowly goes slack as Shiro plays with him, becoming more and more yielding as Shiro fucks his tongue inside and moves Keith’s head where he wants it. One of Keith’s hands slides forward to cup Shiro’s cheek, fingers trembling as he sucks weakly on Shiro’s tongue.

Shiro groans quietly when Keith starts to wriggle and shift in his lap again. He doesn’t want to stop what he’s doing, but he might need to readjust the way Keith is laying on him if he wants Keith to be secure while Shiro learns his body.

He pulls back from Keith’s lips slightly, even though it pains him to do it, and looks down at Keith’s tail, getting ready to adjust the angle that his feet are planted in the sand-

And stops moving completely when he sees that a little slit has peeled open, high up on the front of Keith’s tail, right where his pelvis would split into legs, if he had them.

The pearly, dark purple scales of Keith’s tail near his waist throw the new opening into sharp contrast, cherry-colored and glossy. Entranced, not daring to breathe, Shiro reaches for it, but stops himself before he actually touches it.

“Oh, baby.” He looks up at Keith, who’s staring at him and biting his lip. “Is this for me?”

Keith’s teeth sink deeper into his own lip and he gives Shiro a small nod, averting his eyes and squirming again. His shifting weight gives pressure and friction to Shiro’s cock, now fully hard and straining under his clothes.

Shiro chances one more quick glance at their surroundings, just to confirm that they’re sheltered from ocean view. The rocky cove shields them on all sides. Perfect.

He turns back to Keith. Beautiful, sweet Keith. “Can I touch?”

“Y-yeah,” Keith whispers.

His purple eyes are huge, locked on Shiro, who can’t help but kiss him one more time before returning his attention to the place where Keith’s body opens up.

Shiro’s fingers are tentative when he first touches, curious. He rubs around the opening and Keith gasps, hiding his face in Shiro’s neck and clinging tightly. Keith is wet, pussy slick with fluid similar to a human’s - because that’s what this is, it’s his _pussy,_ and Shiro’s head is spinning with how badly he wants to get inside it.

“Keith,” he breathes, circling the opening with a little more pressure. Keith moans and arches his back, instinctive. “Keith, oh my god.”

From what Shiro can see, Keith doesn’t have any kind of clitoris to speak of, but he lets his fingers explore all around and just inside his entrance, just to be sure. Keith whimpers but never jolts in the way Shiro would expect him to if he was having his clit touched by someone else for the first time; that’s something Shiro will have to clarify later, because he’s rapidly losing his internal battle and getting ready to push a finger inside.

At the first press of his finger, Shiro meets resistance. That’s not unexpected, but a moment later, the resistance _moves,_ forcing Shiro’s finger out as it shifts toward the opening of Keith’s body. Shiro draws his hand back and watches, stunned, as what looks like a small cock unfurls from the apex of the opening, growing hard right before Shiro’s eyes until it’s reached its full length, maybe three inches. It’s the same color as Keith’s pussy, a deep cherry red, and covered in his slick.

Shiro swallows heavily. His mouth is bone-dry. He has a _lot_ of questions, but they’re all going to have to wait until after he sees what this new addition can do.

He trails a single finger down the shaft and Keith cries out, thrashing in his lap and digging his nails into Shiro’s back.

Shiro smirks. The only way this could possibly get better is if he had both hands free to play.

“Show me what you like, sweetheart,” he murmurs, rubbing his thumb over the nape of Keith’s neck.

“Wh-what?” Keith stammers.

Shiro turns to kiss his forehead, smiling when Keith leans back to meet his eyes. Keith’s cheeks are flushed, eyes bright, and Shiro can’t help but flick his finger over Keith’s cock just to watch the way his face crumples in response. _Fuck._ “We’re, uh, a little different down here. I want to know how you like it.”

Keith blinks at Shiro for a few seconds, breathing hard, before visibly gathering his words. “I, um. Sometimes I-”

“No,” Shiro shakes his head. “Show me.”

_“Shiro.”_

“What, baby?”

Keith whines. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” Shiro asks.

“It’s embarrassing.”

Shiro laughs and strokes through Keith’s hair. “No it’s not, it’s _hot._ Besides, how else am I gonna know what to do?”

Keith’s breathing picks up. He gnaws at his lip, worrying it between his sharp teeth, and his fingers flex against Shiro’s skin.

“I’ll do the exact same thing right after this,” Shiro tells him. “You’ll get to see what I like, too.”

 _That_ gets a reaction; Keith’s pupils visibly dilate and for a few seconds his gaze sharpens to something almost predatory. A thrilling shiver runs through Shiro’s body and his dick twitches.

“Okay,” Keith says.

Shiro grins. “Yeah?”

Keith nods, readjusting in Shiro’s lap, soft hair flowing gracefully as he unclasps his arms from around Shiro’s neck and reaches down, held securely in Shiro’s embrace.

“So hot,” Shiro breathes, nuzzling at Keith’s neck as they both watch Keith wrap his webbed hand around his dick. Or his clit. Shiro’s not sure, and he’s also not sure how much of a difference it makes.

Whatever it’s called, Keith apparently likes a firm grip around the shaft; he strokes up and down slowly, working himself up, while avoiding the head.

“Do you ever touch the tip of it?” Shiro whispers, not wanting to break the spell.

Keith shakes his head, makes a small noise. “Too sensitive.”

Shiro will _definitely_ be exploring that at some point.

Keith sighs, head falling back, as he trails his other hand down to gather the wetness pooling at his entrance. Shiro’s hand tightens on Keith’s hip and he bites down a groan.

He watches, enraptured, as two of Keith’s fingers disappear inside his body. Keith makes a soft noise and flexes his wrist; Shiro can’t help but notice that he can only fit his fingers in up to the webbing, which means he can’t get them very deep. He wonders if his own will be an improvement.

Christ, he hopes so.

“Shiro,” Keith whines.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Want you…”

Shiro noses at Keith’s cheek until Keith turns toward him and Shiro can give him a kiss. “I’m right here.”

Keith makes a frustrated sound, barely audible over the wet, obscene noises that spill from his pussy as he fingers himself. “I want _you_ to be doing this, not… mm… not me.”

“But you look so hot,” Shiro teases. Keith glares at him. “Here, we’ll - together.”

He takes his hand off Keith’s hip and feels around his entrance, now stretched by two slim fingers. Shiro coats one of his own in the slick and then pushes it in alongside until he’s buried at least an inch deeper than Keith himself can reach. Keith is warm here, not as hot as a human, but not cool like the inside of his mouth.

He wiggles his finger, just slightly, and Keith’s head falls back again. _“Ahhh.”_

Heart pounding, Shiro pulls out, but only so he can gently remove Keith’s fingers and give himself more room to work. He nips at the delicate line of Keith’s jaw. “Keep touching yourself.”

“Shiro - oh my god-”

It’s a struggle even getting two of Shiro’s fingers inside. Keith is _tight,_ his body clutching fiercely at the digits, and the walls of his pussy are lined with strong muscle that forms ridges - no, _rings,_ every inch or so. Thinking about how they might feel around his cock makes Shiro’s vision go black around the edges.

Keith trembles, hand moving shakily over his dick as Shiro starts to fuck him like that, opening him up further with every thrust. Shiro can’t decide whether to look at his fingers disappearing inside Keith’s gorgeous, inhuman cunt, or at the surreal beauty of Keith’s face as he loses himself in pleasure, melting in Shiro’s arms.

When Shiro deems Keith stretched enough for another finger and wedges his third inside, Keith _mewls_ and shivers, hand speeding up on his dick. “Shiro - Sh-Shiro, _ahh-”_

Affection and something far more terrifying wells up in Shiro’s throat, so instead of speaking, he leans in to kiss him, claiming for himself all the sweet noises that are falling from Keith’s lips, more and more urgent as Shiro starts to curl his fingers and really fuck him open.

Once Keith is whining with every exhale, squirming so much Shiro’s afraid he might fall off his lap, Shiro pulls back to look at him again. Keith’s eyes are glassy when they flutter open, kiss-swollen lips parted obscenely as he pants.

Shiro swallows and prays his voice doesn’t crack. “Are you close, sweetheart?”

He has a moment of panic wondering if mermaids have the same words for sex stuff as humans do, but Keith seems to understand what he means, because he nods immediately and angles his body closer to Shiro’s even as he writhes.

“Fuck,” Shiro breathes.

Keith moans, eyes widening, and arches his back when Shiro curls his fingers deeper. _“Ah,_ Shiro, I’m - oh, I’m gonna-”

“It’s okay, baby, I’ve got you,” Shiro promises, and covers Keith’s mouth with his own once more as Keith starts to keen, frantic.

He keeps at the same rhythm, finally getting rewarded a few seconds later when Keith muffles a scream and his body clamps down _hard_ around Shiro’s fingers, rings of muscle tightening one by one as his pussy quivers. Shiro’s cock twitches almost violently in sympathy at the sensation and drools precome into his pants as he imagines how Keith would feel coming on him. He holds Keith close, supporting him as best he can and making sure Keith doesn’t fall off his lap, and eventually Keith’s body starts to relax, going limp in his arms even as his cunt still spasms with aftershocks.

Shiro draws back from the kiss to look briefly down at his handiwork, groaning lowly when he sees pearly stripes of come on Keith’s belly and realizes that he missed actually _seeing_ him come. He’ll have to make sure to watch next time.

“Shiro,” Keith murmurs, pawing weakly at him.

“Mmm,” Shiro hums. Fuck, Keith looks _wrecked._ Shiro never wants to see another sight as long as he lives. “Are you okay? Was that alright?”

Keith nods. “Kiss me again?”

Shiro laughs, helpless, and obeys.

xx

Once they’ve dried Keith off and moved themselves into the tent, Shiro finally takes off his wet pants, flinging them outside before zipping the tent closed.

He’s… not sure how to interpret Keith’s initial reaction to his dick. He looks _puzzled._

“Talk to me,” Shiro says after a pause. “You’re making me a little nervous here.”

“It’s just… exposed like that? All the time?” Keith asks, crawling closer.

“...Yeah.”

“It’s never inside?”

 _That’s_ a weird thing to imagine. “Definitely not.”

Keith gapes at him. “That’s _huge!_ And it looks heavy - you walk around all the time with that hanging in between your legs?”

 _“Jesus,_ Keith,” Shiro groans, covering his face. He can’t help his reaction to Keith’s words. “It’s not always… like this. It gets bigger when I’m turned on.”

When he doesn’t get a response for a few seconds, Shiro peeks through his fingers to find that Keith has moved even closer, a delighted expression on his face. “Really?”

Shiro is a grown man and he can’t stop hiding his face in his hands. Christ. He forces himself to lower them, reaching out to rub over a patch of scales on Keith’s tail within arm’s reach. “Yeah. It’s been like this ever since I got you in my lap.”

“Oh,” Keith breathes, eyes wide as they flick back and forth between Shiro’s face and his dick, standing proud as Keith reaches a tentative hand toward it. “Will you show me, like you said? I wanna make you feel good too.”

Shiro groans; they both watch as his cock twitches at Keith’s words. He’s pretty sure Keith could do just about _anything_ and it would make him feel good.

He takes Keith’s wrist and guides him to wrap his webbed hand around his cock, hissing in satisfaction when Keith shuffles closer and grips him tentatively. “Yeah, like that, sweetheart.”

Shiro guides Keith’s motions until he’s got a rhythm Shiro likes and a pressure that has Shiro climbing toward the edge much too quickly. Considering the mindblowing hotness of what just happened out by the water, though, Shiro doesn’t have it in him to be embarrassed about how fast he’s about to come.

He’s spilling precome over Keith’s hand, sounds becoming slick and obscene in the small space of the tent; eventually Shiro feels his legs go weak, and he pulls Keith with him when he lays down on the sleeping bag, pleasure still steadily building. Now that Keith’s found the perfect rhythm he’s staying with it, pretty face twisted in concentration as he snuggles up to Shiro’s side and keeps jerking his dick. Shiro can’t take his eyes off the way Keith’s hand looks wrapped around him, delicate and inhuman.

“God, just like that,” Shiro groans, gripping the sleeping bag until his knuckles go white. “Fuck, _Keith.”_

Keith whimpers, squirming, and Shiro just barely gets a glimpse of more wetness spilling from his sweet little cunt before his brain short-circuits and he comes in thick pulses over Keith’s hand, moaning lowly.

“Oh my god,” he hears Keith breathe.

Shiro keeps his eyes closed, the image of Keith’s body open and ready for him just from jerking him off seared into his eyelids. He feels restless, like his orgasm barely took the edge off, even though he knows he won’t be able to come again for a few hours.

“Was that okay?” Keith asks.

Shiro wants to laugh. Instead, he opens his eyes and smiles at Keith, who looks worried, his hand still wrapped around Shiro’s dick. “It was perfect, sweetheart. Felt so good.”

Keith’s face softens and he bites his lip, grinning. “Good, ‘cause it was really hot.”

“Was it, now?” Shiro’s going to have an ego the size of the moon by the time this is all over. “You wanna know what made me come?”

Keith’s brow furrows. “ _I_ did.”

Shiro _does_ laugh, now. “No, I - yeah, I know you did, baby. I just meant… seeing this,” he reaches over to stroke over the silken folds of Keith’s opening. Keith moans and arches toward him. “Getting me off was doing it for you, huh?”

“Mhm,” Keith agrees, absolutely shameless. “Now I want your fingers in me again.”

“Keith, you’re gonna _kill_ me,” Shiro groans as his spent dick gives a useless twitch.

It’s pretty much at the top of his list of ways to die, though, so Shiro pulls his beautiful executioner on top of him and reaches down to give him whatever he wants.

xx

They spend the rest of the day with their hands - and mouths, eventually - all over each other, only emerging occasionally from the tent for food or bodily needs.

Shiro learns that his mid-thirties refractory period, which he thought was set in stone, can apparently make exceptions for stunning mermaids eager for his touch.

He also learns that Keith’s dick - and it’s definitely a dick, he knows that now - is about average size for his species, as far as Keith is aware. Mermaids apparently all have both sets of equipment, capable of carrying young or fertilizing others’ as the need arises, and both parts tend to be close to the average. At least, that’s what Keith learned in early-teens “health class” before the colony kicked him out.

All this is to say that, with a cock almost three times the size of Keith’s, Shiro’s truly not sure if he’s going to be able to fit inside, and Keith’s initial reaction makes a lot more sense now. It’s not like that would be the absolute end of the world, but by the time they go to bed that night after dinner, a cozy chat by the ocean, and several more rounds of sex, Shiro’s worked up to _four_ fingers in the hopes he can train Keith’s body to relax for him by tomorrow.

Keith falls asleep before Shiro does, fucked-out and radiant, draped over Shiro’s body with a lazy smile on his face. Shiro drinks him in, gazing at him until his eyelids get heavy and he can’t keep them open anymore, and he drifts off listening to the ocean as he holds Keith close, ignoring the nagging voice that reminds him he only gets one more day of this.

xx

“I want to try,” Keith says firmly, dark hair spread around him like a halo as he stares up at Shiro from the sleeping bag.

It’s warm in the tent, sun at its peak on a cloudless, mild day, and Shiro’s unzipped the entrance so that the ocean breeze can blow in, cooling their sweat-soaked bodies as best it can. They’ve been making out for the better part of an hour, unhurried, intimate conversation slipping in whenever they take breaks, but it’s been getting steadily more heated and progressed to the point where Shiro’s braced over Keith, completely naked and rutting through the inviting slickness of Keith’s cunt.

And Keith - god, Keith wants it, how can Shiro refuse-

“I just don’t want to hurt you,” he murmurs, kissing the corner of Keith’s mouth. “You think you’re ready?”

The way he has to spread his legs wide on either side of Keith’s tail to get on top of him like this means that it’s too easy to grind down, his cockhead catching a few times on Keith’s entrance. Keith moans and slides his hands down Shiro’s back, rubbing mindlessly at his skin and raising goosebumps wherever he touches in spite of the heat.

“I am - Shiro, I promise,” Keith whines, digging his nails in. “I want all of you.”

God, he’s a fucking _knockout._ Shiro would rather fling himself off a cliff than say ‘no’ to him.

“Okay, sweetheart.” He kisses Keith one more time, sweet but claiming, and props himself on one elbow so he can grip his cock to angle it properly. “Hold onto me.”

Fitting just his cockhead inside is like a religious experience; Keith is _achingly_ tight around him, slippery and warm, and Shiro presses his forehead to Keith’s cheek and groans. He goes as slow as he can, listening to Keith’s breathing for any sharp gasps that might signal pain, but his hips jump forward helplessly when he breaches that first ring of muscle and the most sensitive parts of his dick get a firm massage.

 _“Ah,”_ Keith breathes.

“Shit, are you okay?” Shiro asks quickly, voice shaking at how good Keith feels.

Keith nods and turns his head, lips finding Shiro’s cheek. “Keep going.”

Shiro does. He’s more prepared for the next ring of muscle to hug and slide over the crown of his cock, able to stay in control of his body even though it’s so overwhelming his eyes roll back in his head. “Keith. _Baby.”_

“Ungh - ohh, god,” Keith groans, the fins at the end of his tail flicking back and forth.

He drags his nails up Shiro’s back as Shiro gives him more, astonished that he hasn’t yet bottomed out. He thought for sure that he would have by now, considering Keith seems to be built to accommodate six inches at best.

Maybe all those mermaid sex ed classes were wrong. Or - much better - maybe Keith’s body is just that hungry for him.

When Shiro’s hips press against Keith’s scales and he realizes that he’s given Keith everything, he can’t help but pull him into a kiss, overwhelmed with emotion and pleasure.

He’s inside a mermaid.

He’s inside _Keith._

“Shiro,” Keith whispers, his voice strained.

“Okay?” Shiro has to ask him.

“Yeah, just… really full…”

Keith is actively trying to kill him.

“Let me know when it’s okay to move,” Shiro manages.

Keith wiggles underneath him and Shiro hisses. “Give me a second.”

Shiro kisses him again, determined to be patient.

When Keith mumbles that he can move, Shiro goes as slow as he can, even though it means he feels every millimeter of Keith’s cunt in agonizing detail as he pulls out, then fucks back in to the root.

_“Oh!”_

Shiro does it again, addicted to the raspy sound of Keith’s voice in the throes of pleasure, and again, and again until he’s smoothly rolling his hips, splitting Keith’s pussy in two as Keith writhes underneath him. He can feel Keith’s dick pressed in between them, rubbing against his abs as it leaks fluid - everything is so _wet,_ inside and out, their bodies sweating in the midday heat as they lose themselves in each other by the sea.

“O-oh fu-u-uck,” Keith wails, throwing his head back and gasping in air. “Oh my god - oh my god-”

“So pretty,” Shiro breathes. He’s never felt anything like this in his life.

“Shiro!”

Keith’s eyes are squeezed shut, mouth open as Shiro gives it to him. He’s making the sweetest noises, only getting sweeter as Shiro starts to go faster, pounding into him as hard as he dares.

“Talk to me, sweetheart,” Shiro urges him. “You okay?”

Keith keens and digs his nails into Shiro’s back. _“Yes -_ don’t stop, oh god, fuck me, fuck me-”

Powerless, Shiro obeys, pushing away the orgasm that’s already creeping up on him embarrassingly fast and dipping his pelvis as much as he can to give Keith’s cock some friction. He fucks Keith until his eyes are crossed, until Keith’s back is arching and he’s twitching his hips up into every one of Shiro’s thrusts, almost sobbing with every breath.

When Keith comes, it’s without warning; he opens his eyes a split second before it happens, gaze so vulnerable when it finds Shiro’s that Shiro gasps, and then he’s moaning, long and low as his cunt ripples around Shiro’s cock.

“Oh god, _Keith,”_ Shiro sobs, orgasm dragging him under within seconds as he buries his face in Keith’s shoulder and spills inside him.

He comes back to himself slowly, the sound of the waves the first thing he hears as the roaring of blood in his ears starts to quiet. They lay there for a long time like that, neither one of them with any desire to move just yet, and Shiro mouths happily at the salty skin of Keith’s throat and wonders if he should give Keith a few more minutes before seeing what he thinks about getting Shiro’s come eaten out of him.

xx

Shiro is ninety-nine percent sure he’s set a personal record for number of orgasms in a twenty-four hour period, and that’s including the twenty-four hours in his youth after he discovered what orgasms were.

He’s flopped out on the sand, staring up at the purpling sky, basking in the peaceful sounds of the little cove as Keith hunts for his dinner. Now that the day is drawing to a close, Shiro’s trying even harder to cling to the moment, filling his mind with thoughts - memories - of Keith under him, on top of him, around him, pretty eyes wide and trusting-

His phone rings, breaking up the dull roar of the ocean and startling him. Shiro hasn’t even looked at his phone since he got here.

It’s his hotel.

“Hello, Mr. Shirogane? This is the Hilton front desk.”

“Oh, uh, hi.”

“I’m just calling to confirm that you’ll be checking out tomorrow. Will you need any help with your luggage or transportation to the airport?”

“I was planning on calling a car tomorrow, but if you’d be able to call one for me, that would be great.”

“Certainly. Will you be needing late check-out?”

“No, my flight’s at noon, so I’ll definitely need to leave by nine,” Shiro says.

“Okay, we’ll make sure a car is waiting for you at nine o’clock tomorrow.”

“Great, thank you so much,” Shiro says.

“It’s our pleasure, Mr. Shirogane. Have a good day.”

He hangs up and stuffs his phone back in the pocket of his discarded pants, standing back up. He won’t have to deal with a car company tomorrow; that’s good, at least.

But when he turns to face the ocean again, Keith is sitting in the shallows, back from his hunt, and he looks _devastated._

“You’re _leaving_ tomorrow?”

What? “I - yeah, Keith, I told you I was,” Shiro says, confused.

 _“Yeah,_ but that was before - before - I thought-” Keith gestures in between them, his hand shaking. “You can’t leave!”

“Baby, I have to,” Shiro sighs. “I promise I’ll come back.”

Horribly, Keith’s eyes start to shine with tears. “No you w-won’t - you’re _-_ Shiro, I gave you e- _everything_ and you’re still leaving-”

“Keith.” Shiro darts toward him, aching to comfort him, to let him know that it wasn’t anything he did or didn’t do. He thought Keith _knew._ “My job has a deadline I need to make, I told you, sweetheart. I was always going to have to leave.”

Shit. That was apparently the wrong thing to say, as tears start to fall down Keith’s cheeks and he uses his strong upper body to push away from Shiro’s advances into deeper water. “Y-you were? I thought we - I th-thought I could-”

“Keith, sweetheart,” Shiro pleads. “Come here.”

“Don’t touch me,” Keith hisses, his voice thick. Shiro feels like someone’s twisting a knife in his chest. “You _knew_ you were never going to see me again and you still - you let me - for _days-”_

“I knew from the first day I met you that I wanted to see you again, Keith, you have to know that,” Shiro says. “I’m coming back for you, baby, I promise - please, come here-”

Keith’s crying outright now, staring at Shiro like looking at him makes him miserable, and it makes Shiro want to throw up. Just a few days ago he remembers vowing to destroy anyone who had ever hurt Keith, but Shiro himself is now at the top of that list, and it makes him sick. He wants to destroy himself.

Eventually, Keith lets himself drift toward the shore, into Shiro’s waiting arms. His body is stiff at first, but he gradually melts into Shiro’s touch and lets Shiro carry him out of the water and wrap him up in a fuzzy towel so that they can lay together on the beach.

“I thought you were different,” Keith says into Shiro’s shoulder eventually, once his eyes are dry. His voice is flat.

Shiro doesn’t know what to say to that. His hands feel numb where they’re stroking over Keith’s back, through his hair. Keith has only gotten attached to a handful of people in his life, and all of them have left him. Shiro’s about to be included on that list.

“I thought you knew I was going to leave,” he says eventually. “But I hope you believe me when I say I’m coming back.”

Keith looks up at him then, hair half-covering his red, puffy eyes. “I don’t know if I can.”

xx

Shiro and Keith spend that last night in the tent together just being as close as possible. They barely exchange words, and Shiro doesn’t dare bring up anything sexual, not that he’s exactly in the mood, now. He just holds Keith as tight as he can, praying for some kind of solution as he breathes in the sweet smell of the ocean breeze that lingers in Keith’s soft hair.

xx

Shiro wakes up the next morning alone in the tent.

He has a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach, and it only grows when he stumbles outside and doesn’t see Keith resting on the beach or in the water.

The bottom drops completely out of his stomach when he spots something shiny in the sand and realizes that it’s his Rolex.

Keith is gone.

xx

Shiro spends his flight back to Chicago feeling something startlingly akin to grief.

He supposes it’s because he has no way of contacting Keith and no guarantee that he’ll ever see him again. The emotional whiplash of today compared to the past week is so bad that at one point he finds himself shaking, staring out the window at the rolling clouds and imagining the sky is the ocean instead.

He mopes around Chicago for weeks once he gets back, both his creative and every-day energy completely sapped. All he can think about is Keith.

He moved to Chicago to get a fresh start in a brand-new part of the country after his divorce from Adam, the condo they shared in Boston and the city itself too impregnated with shared memories for Shiro to consider staying anywhere near the Northeast, but it means that he has very few close friends in the Chicagoland area. It’s easy to withdraw, to mope. Matt calls him a few times to check in, urging him to come and visit him in Arizona once his project is done. Shiro says he’ll think about it, knowing full well that the next flight he takes will be a fools’ journey to the west coast to try to find a mermaid in the vastness of the Pacific.

A day before his deadline, Shiro still has nothing but sketches of Keith and his tail. He pulls an all-nighter, something he hasn’t done since college, and half-heartedly slaps together a building inspired by Keith’s scales, conference rooms and executive suites designed with floor-to-ceiling windows that slope outward and interlock with those on floors above and below them. He sketches the whole building so that it appears to twist, like something organic, and leaves it at that, although he has to refrain from adding two fins on top.

He sends his design to the company that commissioned it and prepares for his professional reputation to be ruined.

They call him later and tell him that they absolutely love it.

xx

Shiro books the next flight out before they’ve even transferred over his design bonus.

He stays at the same Hilton as last time, the routine soothing and hopeful as he moves through the familiar lobby and walks a couple blocks over to pick up his rental car. He sets out for the coast early the next morning, refusing to acknowledge the very real possibility that Keith has either moved completely or doesn’t want to see him, and clings to happy memories with his mermaid instead, letting hope thread weakly through him.

It’s been long enough that Shiro has to use the pinned location on his phone to guide him on his hike to the cliffs. This time, he’s not going to either one of their previous meeting spots; instead, he navigates to the place on the map that Keith had indicated was the location of his cave, deep underneath the ocean surface. It’s a long shot, but it’s all Shiro has.

He gets as close to the water as he can, spending a few hours just sitting there and psyching himself up. He’s hopefully closer to Keith than he’s been in a month. His soul feels a little lighter.

Finally, once Shiro gathers up his courage, he unhooks his watch from his wrist - the same Rolex that had brought them together, that Keith had kept for a week - and drops it straight into the ocean.

It’s the only way he can think of to get Keith’s attention. If this doesn’t work, Shiro doesn’t have a plan B, and he doesn’t know what he’s going to do. He really doesn’t.

He waits for an hour.

Two.

Three.

The wind whips at his face, his hair, chilling him, but still Shiro waits, staring at the waves rolling in until his vision blurs.

Eventually, he puts his face in his hands and tries to breathe through the panic he can start to feel welling up inside him, every part of him aching.

Then, he hears a splash.

“Shiro?”

 

* * *

 

Epilogue

 

_“Shiro.”_

“Shh, sweetheart, breathe,” Shiro soothes him, petting at his flanks. “Breathe, I’ve got you.”

Keith’s head is thrown back on Shiro’s shoulder, back pressed against Shiro’s chest as he pants, white-knuckling the edges of the bathtub. Shiro wraps a hand around Keith’s dick to help take his mind off of the new sensation, stroking him up and down and even playing a little with the tip just to feel Keith keen and clench around him.

It’s been a month since they moved into the seaside house that Shiro designed just for them, right on the water with a series of underground channels that allowed Keith to enter and exit from the ocean at will as well as move through various rooms of the house, all without ever leaving the water. Every room of the house is accessible via the aquatic passageways, a design feat that Shiro is especially proud of, as it gives Keith much more independence and gives Shiro’s back a break from carrying him everywhere.

Since they’d moved in, Keith’s newfound independence included access to Wifi; he’d immediately used the internet it to familiarize himself with many human customs and habits, including but not limited to pornography. He’d been especially curious about anal sex, which is when Shiro realized he wasn’t even sure if Keith _had_ an anus.

Just over a year together, and they’re still learning new things about each other every day.

Keith does, in fact, have a little hole just underneath the swell of his ass, tiny and almost impossible to see before Shiro stretched it out first with his fingers and now with his cock. It’s even tighter than his pussy, which Shiro hadn’t realized was possible, and Keith is _wailing_ as he adjusts to the sensation of being filled there, writhing in the bath and splashing water all over the floor of their bathroom with his gorgeous, red-tipped tail.

Shiro kisses the back of his neck and breathes in his scent, overflowing with gratitude as he briefly gazes out the large window at the sun setting over the ocean. Keith grabs for his hand and holds on tight, whimpering when Shiro flicks at the tip of his cock with his free hand before playing with his sodden cunt lips underneath the surface of the water.

Keith shifts, rocking his ass back on Shiro’s cock, and sobs weakly. “Don’t stop.”

Shiro kisses him again and bites gently over the same spot, holding Keith close. “Never, baby.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Let me know what you thought in the comments or on [twitter](http://twitter.com/favspacetwink)! Feedback fuels my soul!!

**Author's Note:**

> Stay tuned for chapter 2: It Took 7k For Them To Kiss But It'll Only Take A Few Hundred Words For Shiro To Get Knuckle-Deep
> 
> And there's a happy ending, I promise! Follow me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/favspacetwink) for updates on when I'm going to post the second chapter and just general sheith horniness.


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